


Hands

by CollingwoodGirl



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 12:42:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2068674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CollingwoodGirl/pseuds/CollingwoodGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Phryne explore their budding sexual relationship.</p>
<p>This is not connected to any other story or chapter.<br/>It is purely sensual/sexual in nature and can be skipped it that isn't your cup of tea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands

Jack awoke first, as he usually did. He resisted the urge to stretch, lest he wake her. He could not bear to disturb her while she slept. A force constantly in motion, sleep was the only time she was still (body or mind) for longer than a few moments. Not that he minded. Phryne's frenetic energy infused his own steady brand with a new vivacity. Yet her repose, even in sleep, was one of movement.

Pictured from above, it would have looked like she was attempting to block him from enemy fire. Her arm draped across his bare chest. One hip leaned heavily on his to accommodate the leg she had cocked possessively over his own. She had refused his offer of his own pajama shirt and he was quite glad of it, now. He gazed down at her, free to take in every inch without a witness. Her hair was mussed, her lips were flushed and swollen. Her alabaster skin seemed to emanate a light of its own, outshining the dawn that was breaking outside the window.

Unable to help himself, he began to stroke the small of her back with his free hand. How many times had he recollected that dance? He pictured it now. Pink fans, like angel's wings, opening to reveal the fine bones of her spine just beneath the surface of that phosphorescent skin, the curve of her hips. He felt the skin beneath his fingertips erupt in gooseflesh and savored the sensation. His breathing was becoming heavy. He opened his eyes to meet a pair of crystal blue ones. She was looking up at him through her dark lashes and fringe, a look of pure lust on her face. Momentarily embarrassed, he froze.

"Don't stop," came Phryne's voice, hoarse from sleep, and she settled her head back into the crook of his shoulder. He could feel her breath and it reignited the flame within him. Phryne began to hum, almost purring, into each long stroke of Jack's hand. She adored the feeling of his hands on her. They were large, strong and long-fingered, with just enough callous to remind you that he worked for a living.

Her hips began to circle in a slow, steady rhythm, each revolution nudging against him. A flush had begun to creep up Jack's neck. If he wasn't careful, his body would betray him far too soon for his liking. He pulled away from her and he watched, mouth gaping, as she rolled over onto her back.

Jack had never known a woman like Phryne. Granted, he hadn't known many women. But, still. Even after sixteen years of marriage, he had never had so much as a glimpse of Rosie's naked flesh in broad daylight. This was a whole new world. Phryne's hips were still making small circles, like a planet in orbit around an invisible sun.

She looked at him unabashedly. _He's far too tempting in the morning,_ she thought. His wavy hair was tousled and streams of morning light glinted gold off the curls. His torso was lithe with its long muscles. His light green eyes, dark with desire. Even his insistence on wearing his pajama bottoms to sleep appealed to her, in a twisted way. God forbid, he turn her into a morning person.

Phryne reached out for his hand and directed it up her thighs. Jack obliged, tracing shapes on the soft, creamy flesh. But when she tried to coax him further - up to the nest of raven hair - he sucked in his breath sharply and gave pause. "Please, Jack." Her voice was small. Desperate. The orbit of her hips was growing more urgent. She closed her eyes and guided his fingers to the spot. Using her own fingers to demonstrate, she stroked herself and a primal noise escaped her lips.

He was mesmerized by her sexuality and felt, more deeply than his own embarrassment, that he wanted to be a part of it. The reason for it. He began tentatively, brushing her curls with his fingertips and she gasped. He searched out the spot and stroked it, evoking another delicious sound from her. She threw her head back and reached her arms above her in perfect surrender to him.

Before long, he was matching the rhythm of her hips and her body bucked and arched beneath his touch. Suddenly, she grew very still until a violent shudder overtook her. She cried out his name and Jack, startled, looked up at her face in time to see her expression, tensed as if in agony, melt into one of bliss.

Jack felt as if he had been launched into another sphere. He was beyond the awkwardness he would have normally felt. He felt alive, emboldened and deeply connected. He bent over her, spread the curls with his hands and gently kissed the spot. Phryne moaned and lifted her hips to him. He kissed her again, opening his mouth and running his tongue along the small bundle of nerves. Her body was writhing, now and her hands were in his hair, gently tugging him upward. He pulled himself up to lay beside her and saw that her eyes were wet. For him, she felt a desire that went deeper than any she had ever known.

Phryne pulled him to her and kissed his mouth, tasting herself on his lips. She took hold of his his hand - that perfect hand that brought her to orgasm - and knew it wouldn't take much more for another. She shaped the fingers and he let her guide them into her. Jack was plunged into another world.

Wet, hot and soft beyond compare, he splayed his fingers inside her bringing forth a guttural moan. Once again, he followed her rhythm. Slow at first, savoring every movement as he explored her. But, it wasn't long before her body urged her to hasten the tempo.

Tension was building deep within her core - a tidal wave, ten stories tall, hovered just beyond the horizon. They could barely breathe. His fingertip grazed a raised patch of otherwise smooth, spongy flesh and Phryne seized his shoulder, her nails digging into his skin. He sought it out again and spoke her name, his voice barely a whisper. She was trembling and fixed him with a stare as she bore down on him in a swift series of thrusts that brought the wave to a crescendo.

It broke over her and Jack felt the soft flesh tighten around his fingers as she climaxed. Her muscles pulsed with ferocity, racking her body with each spasm until he, too, was overtaken by the wave. Spent and panting, they gently pulled apart. A smile played on his lips. She was beaming at him.

The sun had fully risen and the room was filled with bright morning light. Phryne trailed a finger down his lean stomach, stopping at the fabric of his waistband. "Perhaps tomorrow..." she teased, "We could try it without the pajamas."

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've managed to complete a piece that was 100% "smut." It started just as an exercise to get comfortable writing about Jack and Phryne in a sexual way, unconnected to any previous story. I just started with the assumption that they were together.
> 
> I've struggled with embarrassment in previous writing attempts and I'm not sure why this one was different. But, I'm really happy with how this turned out.
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcome.


End file.
